


and my heart's already sinned

by poedameroh (howtobottlefame)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, hux is no quitter, stripper kylo au, will be adding tags as i go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:31:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8667802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howtobottlefame/pseuds/poedameroh
Summary: It's always the same. He soon learns the man goes by the name of Kylo Ren and he takes the stage five out of seven nights. Hux drinks his whiskey and watches the dancers with little interest until Kylo comes out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i started this a million years ago and i thought i'd post what i have to motivate me to finish it. Pls be kind to me!
> 
> Title from Hozier's Someone new

The club is expensive. Most of the patrons are dressed in business suits, their glasses full with top shelf drinks, giving an air of professionalism to disguise their real purpose. It's no secret why they're here. 

It's not exactly the kind of place that would be Hux's first choice for a business meeting, but Phasma's judgement is sound and it seems to be working so far. The drink and entertainment work their magic just as intended and every number on stage does wonders on softening their associates. Before Hux knows it, an arrangement is made and the contracts are signed. 

He'll be buying Phasma a drink for that. Other day, in a different bar.

The entertainment is meant to cater to every taste. Men of all shapes and sizes take turns in stepping on stage. Their bodies are carefully kept, their outfits striking to the eye, appealing to baser instincts, and there's not one who walks away without several hundred dollars tucked neatly in the hem of their underwear. 

It's classy enough. Or as classy as such a place could be. Still, it's not what Hux would rather spend his night doing. He endures two more numbers, if only to keep with the pretense, before finishing his drink and clearing his throat politely.

"I think I'll be retiring for the night, gentlemen. Phasma." He smooths the creases on his suit as he stands. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

He's only had two drinks but the same couldn't be said of the others. His lips curl upwards at the corners in satisfaction at the thought that they were so easy to persuade. They should know better than to make business while drunk.

All the better for him and his firm.

He's heading for the door when there is a visible change in the atmosphere. The lights are lowered and there is an excited murmur from the crowd. When he turns to look, the stage lights have taken a red hue. The music is different, too. It's decadent, with a low bass and slow notes. He fancies the room temperature has gone a few degrees higher. 

The man that steps on stage is tall, muscular. He's dressed only in satin black underwear, hugging his hips and his ass perfectly, and on top of that a black sheer robe that seems to move with him as he sways to the beat. His face is clean save for a touch of red on his mouth, just over his upper lip and through the middle of the bottom and stretching down almost to his chin. 

More muscular men have come and gone through the stage, with finer features, with longer limbs. Still, Hux finds himself watching. He's fixed in place, his suit jacket draped over one shoulder as his eyes follow the man on stage through every turn and every sway of his hips. Thoroughly entranced. Here and there Hux can see wandering hands trying to reach closer for a taste of all that skin, and every time the man sways just out of reach. When someone tries to tuck some money into his underwear, he takes it straight from their hands. Their fingers don't brush. Not once does a hand land on him. Not one man lucky enough. 

The song lasts around seven minutes only and then it's over. The lights change back to their usual hues and disappointment is palpable throughout the club. Just like that, the man is gone.

It takes a moment for Hux to gather his thoughts, blaming the drink. He turns on his heel and leaves the club, glad the contracts were signed.

-

Against his better judgement, he goes back. Alone this time. He doesn't know what takes over him as he finds himself changing routes instead of driving straight home. Looking to relax, perhaps, after a particularly taxing day at work. Perhaps something else.

He leaves his car with the valet and passes through security with no problem. The atmosphere isn't too different from last time he was there. Low lights, rich men and some scattered women, the deep bass of the music resonating through the walls. Two weeks have passed and Hux wonders if he will get to see the same acts or new ones. He hopes for the first.

He finds an empty booth by the main stage. He orders his usual whiskey and settles in to watch the show. He has to admit the entertainment has a certain degree of quality, no doubt on par with the kind of people it serves, but it is still not the way he would have ever imagined he'd be spending his evenings. He is not a shy or modest man by far, but he takes special care with his looks and has always thought such activities to be beneath him. If he wants something, whenever the need arises, he has other means of sating himself without having to pay anyone for it. Still, his eyes don't leave the stage.

Only a few acts he recognizes from last time, and yet they're still of little interest to him. Almost a dozen different people come and go and get their well-earned money for the night and Hux is about ready to call it a night, thinking it was a pointless and ridiculous thing to have come, when the atmosphere changes, the lights go lower, and _that_ he recognizes. 

He straightens himself on his seat, leaning slightly forward in interest when a figures comes on stage. It's the same man as before, dark hair and tanned skin. His lips are tinted a deep shade of red that matches the trimming of the sheer robe he wears, clearly as nothing more than decoration since it leaves little to the imagination. Underneath that his underwear is tight and glittery, reflecting on the lights above. 

"Don't bother with him," a deep voice comes from the table just next to his, startling Hux out of his thoughts. He turns to look at a man older than him, dressed in an expensive suit but looking disheveled and with more drinks than he could count.

"Excuse me?" Engaging in conversation is not exactly why he came here, specially not with a man looking as ill-mannered as this one, so his answer comes out sharper than usual.

"He doesn't pay attention to anyone," he slurs his words and Hux has to struggle to understand him through the music, "you'll just be wasting your time. And your money." 

"I don't intend to spend my money on anyone. But thanks for the advice," he cuts the conversation off as efficiently as he can and ignores any further attempts from this man to talk to him. He focuses instead on the show in front of him. Like before, the guy onstage manages to avoid every single wandering hand that tries to get too close, not even being able to brush a thigh or, more ambitiously, his ass. He doesn't indulge his audience like all the other dancers seem to do. With a quick glance around Hux can see the disappointment in the patrons' faces, yet they still give him the biggest tips. 

He stops paying attention to anyone else, his eyes fixed on the man as he dances, seeming completely at ease with himself and the crowd's attention. He looks like he thoroughly enjoys what he does, every time he sways his hips or pulls himself up on one of the poles in an impressive display of strength. His muscles flex as he picks himself up, impossibly long legs curl around the pole and Hux can see why seemingly everyone in the club drools for him.

There's a moment, however fleeting, where their eyes meet. Even through the low lights Hux can see the dark chocolate of his eyes. They seem to pierce into his own, like a flicker of recognition, before the moment is over and his gaze is gone. Hux is not a foolish man, he doesn't try to see things that aren't really there, but he fancies he can see a smirk curling at the red lips before he turns away and the music dies down.

He has little care for the other dancers after that. He finishes his drink and leaves a good tip before he takes his jacket and walks out to get his car. If nothing else, he has at least been able to put behind the stress from the day's work.

-

He lets another week pass before he goes again. Despite his unwillingness to admit it, it becomes routine. The valet greets him by name and the servers pour his whiskey as soon as he's taken a seat. He always goes alone, he hasn't told Phasma he returned after their meeting there, nor he intends to. His purpose there is an affair he wants to keep private, if only because he knows her and the endless teasing she'll sure drown him in if she finds out.

It's always the same. He soon learns the man goes by the name of Kylo Ren and he takes the stage five out of seven nights. He drinks his whiskey and watches the dancers with little interest until Kylo comes out. The songs are always different and Hux doesn't recognize any of them. His outfits are flashy and exposing more skin than not. Most nights he wears makeup in small accents, his lips, his eyes. Hux wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks. He finds himself thinking about tugging at it, letting it loose from the small braids or elegant pins he wears sometimes.

With no small tip, he gets someone to reserve a table for him once a week, the closest one to the stage he can get. He stands out in the crowd, composed, always careful not to have more than two drinks on him, and if he thirsts for anything more than what he's allowed he doesn't let it show on his face.

They're fleeting at first, the eye contact lasting only a second or two. After a few weeks they start to progress. Kylo seems to recognize him, always the same spot on the same day. When their eyes meet now, Kylo doesn't turn away. If anything, he seems to act more provocative, his movements bolder. Part of the show, Hux thinks, anything to get the biggest tips. When Kylo looks straight at him and smirks, a sly, teasing thing, Hux can feel his blood going south.

Hux stays only until Ren's number is done. He's always been a generous tipper and the service he's offered is proof of that. After a few weeks, he starts to leave a tip for Ren, not desperately trying to shove it at him like everyone else but passed to his waiter with indications of who it's meant for. They're never less than a few hundred dollars, clipped neatly with a business card. 

The routine continues. Hux goes once a week exclusively for him. Kylo grows bolder, bites his lip when their eyes meet, dances closer to where he seats, he even winks at him once. Hux's tips grow on par with Ren's actions but he gets nothing else in return. 

Once, his waiter attempts to give him the same advice that man on his second visit gave him. "We'll see," he replies with a smirk as he hands him Kylo's tip. He's not a man that quits without a fight. 

He wonders what the best course of action is. He checks his clock and waves his waiter over just before Kylo will come onstage. "Do you know what he likes?" The question takes the man by surprise but he does. He orders another whiskey for himself and a strawberry daiquiri, amused at the choice.

This time, when Kylo meets his gaze, he doesn't conceal his smirk. With a nod of his head Hux points to the pink drink on the table and the empty seat next to him. It seems to take Kylo by surprise but Hux can clearly see the look of interest in his eyes. He sits back and waits.

It takes a while. He's almost finished his own drink when there's a murmur through the club and he turns to see Kylo coming out through the stage door. He's dressed in a robe similar to the one he wears most nights but thicker, not letting anyone see what's underneath. A lame attempt at modesty, compared to the short length, covering only to mid thighs, and the low cut on his chest. 

Through the corner of his eye, Hux can see a lot of heads turning their way. There's clear thirst in their eyes as they look at Kylo, turning quickly into envy as they turn to look at him. His attention is fixed on Ren as he makes his way over to his table, barely paying attention to the whispers going on around them.

"How did you know what I like?" Kylo asks as he takes the seat next to him, eyeing the drink ready for him, trailing the tip of his finger over the rim of the glass.

"It wasn't all that hard. You'll be surprised by the kinds of things money can buy," his words are casual but there is a clear intent on his eyes.

"You can't buy me," he seems amused by this, rather than offended. Hux decides he likes that. "You couldn't afford me."

"You'll be surprised by what I can afford. And I'm only buying you a drink, am I not?" He has always been a competitive man, trying to best himself and keep the upper hand. The men in the club are clearly desperate and he wouldn't doubt Kylo has gotten bigger offers from them, and if his reputation is to be believed he has declined every single one. Money isn't always the solution. Luckily for him, he has a lot more on his favor than just a heavy bank account. If he wants something, he will get it. "Did you get my tips?"

"And your card. Armitage Hux, is it?" Hux nods. "I appreciate them, but they will get you nowhere. I've gotten bigger." 

"As I'm sure you have. But I don’t mean anything by them other than a reward for a service well offered." He gives him an appreciative look with that, letting his eyes roam over the exposed span of his chest, well defined and devoid of any hair. "I like your show."

Kylo chuckles at that, smiling over the rim of his glass. "Obviously. Everyone here does. But you don't seem like the type of guy to frequent this kind of places. I had never seen you around until a few weeks ago."

Hux can't help but smirk at the recognition, glad he's left an impression so far, no matter how small. "I don't. A client of mine wanted to come so I indulged. I returned for obvious reasons."

Kylo finishes his drink and Hux gestures the server over for another one. He pays for them and gives the man a generous tip, larger than what he usually gave him, but Kylo's face remains unimpressed. If anything, he looks amused by his obvious attempt at showing the depth of his wallet. 

"Thank you for the drinks. And I appreciate the blatant flattery, but if I need to repeat myself, your money won't get you anywhere with me. You can keep your tips if you don't like that." His smirk still plays at his lips as he speaks, teasing. It wouldn't be the first time he plays with some rich man, and Hux thinks it probably won't be the last.

He seems to consider this for a moment before he leans closer. He lets his hand come to a rest on Kylo's thigh, warm against his palm, and gets close enough to whisper right into his ear. "Then perhaps I will only offer you my dick, and the promise of a good time," his voice is low and his breath ghosts over the skin of Kylo's neck.

A moment passes where Kylo doesn't reply, almost as if he hadn't heard him and Hux thinks he's won the upper hand, before he tips his head back and laughs. Before he knows it, their positions are reversed and now it's Kylo who leans over, crowding over his space and Hux realizes just how _big_ he really is. There is suddenly a large hand between his legs, cupping over his crotch and _squeezing_ and he has to try hard not to let a gasp slip past his lips. 

"While I'm sure you're more than capable of making good on your promise," his face is only an inch away, grinning teasingly at him, "I could snap my fingers and have any men I wanted in this room. With much bigger dicks and thicker wallets." His grip on his crotch tightens almost painfully and Hux can't help but groan in reply. "You'll have to try harder than that if you want to impress me." To Hux's surprise, he leans even closer, pressing their lips together. It's hardly a kiss, more a stolen thing that lasts a mere second before he pulls back. And just like that he's gone, standing a step away from the table, looking completely unaffected. "Thank you for the drink, Hux. I'm sure I'll see you again."

He's gone before Hux can get his breath back. His lips are stained red and he finds himself already half hard. He can feel every pair of eyes in the room fixed on him and he pulls himself together as efficiently as he can. 

His evening didn't end as he had expected, but it's a start. He'll have to work with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you can find any mistakes!


End file.
